


Don't You Ever Come Down

by treaddelicately



Series: Before We Get Lost [3]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, It's just some banter and thigh riding you guys, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, mentions of Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24675283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treaddelicately/pseuds/treaddelicately
Summary: Clint invites Steve and Natasha over for dinner and Darcy's just a teensy bit nervous about the whole thing. Luckily, he knows just how to get rid of those pesky nerves.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis
Series: Before We Get Lost [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717282
Comments: 28
Kudos: 63





	Don't You Ever Come Down

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, I've missed these two so! much! Dresupi made me a smut bingo card just for funsies and I had BoudicaMuse pick out any space she wanted for Taserhawk. She chose thigh riding, and this was the result. She also beta'd this puppy way past her bedtime for me, so I have nothing but my eternal love to give to her. My hero, you guys. You don't even know.
> 
> Enjoy this little slice of Clint and Darcy's life in New York post-BWGL. You don't have to read that fic to enjoy this one, though, because I just really like writing them in sexy situations.

It wasn’t very often that they all had free time on a Saturday night. The sheer dumb luck had been the main reason that Clint even wanted to invite Natasha and Steve over in the first place. He just hadn’t anticipated the way Darcy would respond to the whole thing.

She’d been fluttering anxiously around the apartment for the better part of two hours, fussing over a lasagna in the oven and lining up silverware just so on the rickety kitchen table. It didn’t matter that he’d reminded her over and over that Nat was fine with pizza from the little shop three blocks over or that they never used that table except as a place to toss mail and Lucky’s leash. She had her mind set on doing this dinner her way, and Clint knew better than to get in the way of that.

It was almost cute, how determined she was to make things nice for Natasha. Only she was going to wear down the hardwoods if she kept pacing and her nervous energy was making him restless, too. He’d watched her adjust the same fork four times and that was enough for his patience, so he pushed off his observational spot on the wall and joined her at the table.

Clint curled his fingers around Darcy’s wrist and tugged lightly to get her attention. She was still frowning at the cutlery, though, so he took it a step further and grabbed the belt loop of her jeans to pull her close.

“Come on, you’re being ridiculous. You know Nat doesn’t care about any of this stuff.”

Darcy sighed and then pasted on a smile, one of those fake ones she used when she liked to pretend her nerves weren’t as thin as dental floss. “Yeah, I know. I’m being dumb.”

“I didn’t say dumb,” he corrected, smoothing his hand over her hair and then cupping the back of her head. “It’s not dumb to want Nat to like you. I want her to like you too. You’re just missing one key thing here, baby.”

“Oh yeah?” Her eyebrows raised in disbelief but the smile was twisting into something a little more real. “And what am I missing?”

Clint laughed. “She _already_ likes you.”

“What?” The genuine confusion on her face was adorable. “But we don’t… talk. She’s always just yanking you off to train, giving me these little looks like I’m soaking up all your time.”

He lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Nat takes work seriously and so do I. But trust me, Darce, she likes you. Tried to meddle back when we were in Michigan, even.”

Darcy let out a surprised, choked-off laugh as her fingers ran over the vinyl design on his t-shirt. “What do you mean?”

“She didn’t want me to fuck it up,” Clint explained. “At least, any worse than I already had.”

They both quieted at that, a moment of silence for the break in their relationship. It wasn’t a time that Clint looked back on with any kind of fondness, but knowing he’d come out the other side holding Darcy’s hand was enough.

“Anyway, she was rooting for us. I promise, she likes you.” He bent to drop a kiss between her eyes. “Maybe not as much as I do, but…”

Darcy smiled then, the big smile that showed the gap between her teeth. “Yeah, I kinda like you, too.”

“Just like?” Clint questioned, dragging her away from the dining table before she could start folding the napkins into swans or something equally ridiculous. He walked them backwards to the couch and sat when his calves hit the edge, pulling Darcy onto his lap.

She hummed an affirmative and adjusted on his lap to face him, more straddling him than anything. Not that he had a single complaint about _that_.

“Yeah, I said kinda,” she said with a grin. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, pal.”

Clint pouted, a note of mock hurt threading into his voice. “Darcy. Just like?”

“Did you pack before you set out on this fishing expedition or what?”

Alright, so he liked hearing her say the L-word. Sue him. Besides, every bit of teasing was worth seeing her body relax as her anxiety about Natasha faded away. 

“Not well enough, apparently. Can’t seem to catch anything but crap,” he murmured, threading his fingers into her hair and tugging lightly to tilt her chin up. 

Darcy’s breathing hitched. “Caught me, didn’t you?”

His mouth was already descending on hers, but he had enough time to get in one last quip, their lips brushing with the words. “Just a lucky cast.”

It was a dumb line and Darcy’s snorting laughter nearly ruined the kiss, but Clint was undeterred and pulled her in again once she’d stopped giggling to flick his tongue over her bottom lip. That was the end of that, because then her arms were around his neck and she was just as enthusiastic as he’d been hoping to make her.

Only maybe it was a little _too_ enthusiastic. Nat and Steve would be showing up anytime for dinner, after all. Clint was hardly shy about showing his girlfriend affection in front of their friends but he doubted they’d appreciate the way his hands were clamped down on her ass while they made out on the couch.

Darcy sure seemed to appreciate it, though. She made one of those telltale moans in her throat and slipped her hands under his shirt and _Christ_ , whose dumb idea was this dinner, anyway? It wasn’t like it took much to trip all of his Get Darcy Naked sensors. One little scrape of her painted nails over his abs and he was groaning into her mouth, debating the merits of flat-out ignoring Steve and Nat when they arrived no matter how hard they pounded on the door.

“Dinner,” Darcy breathed out, tugging his wandering hand out of her shirt. Apparently she wasn’t above over-the-clothes touching, though, because she didn’t stop him when he palmed her tit anyway. 

Clint craned his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “We’ve got twenty minutes.”

“You know Steve will drag her here early, the punctual bastard.”

Despite the protests, she didn’t even try to climb off his lap. Encouraged, he dragged her down for another kiss and swirled his tongue around her mouth to sweep away the rest of her reasons for stopping. Well, most of them.

They really didn’t have time to strip down and get to business and Natasha was likely to pick the lock on the door just on principle if he tried to shut her out after being the one to invite her over. It wasn’t like they were completely out of options, though. In fact, the way Darcy was rocking her hips was giving him plenty of ideas about how to get rid of the rest of her nerves.

Clint reluctantly abandoned her chest to plant his hands on her hips, shifting her on his lap so she was straddling his right leg instead. Having her grind on his aching cock was on a short list of things he _really_ wanted at the moment, but there was no way to get them both off now without making a mess they didn’t have time to clean up. He planted one hand on her ass and guided her into the same rocking motion from before, kissing down her throat to feel her moan vibrate against his lips.

“Fuck,” Darcy whimpered. 

He felt her squirming against him, searching out the right pressure between the seam of her jeans and her clit most likely, and shifted his foot to hold his leg steady for her. Then she stiffened and whimpered again and hell yeah, they were in business.

“There you go, baby,” he urged her, nipping at the throbbing pulse in her neck. “God, that’s hot.”

It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but Clint couldn’t fault the view for a second. Darcy with her head tipped back and her lips parted as she exhaled breathy moan after moan, the sloppy way she rutted against his thigh to take whatever pleasure she could get. Fucking intoxicating, that’s what it was.

The vee of her t-shirt slung low and exposed a truly obscene amount of cleavage that he was aching to get his mouth all over, but stretching out the neck of her shirt was out of the question. She’d just get pissed and then no one would get an orgasm out of this, and where was the fun in that? 

He made do with zeroing in on her nipples through the layers of fabric, pinching at one and then switching hands on her ass to give attention to the other. He tried to be careful about all the sucking kisses he was peppering over her neck and collarbone, thoughts of beard burn and careless hickeys and Darcy complaining about the money she had to dump on expensive makeup to cover them up, but then she let out a keening cry and he really didn’t give a shit anymore. Anything was fair game at this point if she was going to make noises like _that_.

“Clint.” Fuck, forget the other noises. The breathless way she said his name blew them right out of the water. “I.. oh, god..”

Her movements were speeding up, on the edge of frantic now, and Clint dug his fingers into her ass to help her out a little. His own breathing was picking up now, familiar heat spreading across his chest and up his neck as though she were riding his dick instead of his denim-covered leg.

“C’mon, Darce.” He pulled firmly at her left nipple, pebbled and hard through through the cup of her bra, and brushed his lips just under her ear with a quiet, purposeful growl. “You gonna come for me just like this? You’re soaking wet, I know you are. Come on.”

Nonsense spilled out from there, whispers about how much he wanted her, how gorgeous she looked, how he was dying to bury his face in her pussy and taste her until she screamed. The noises caught in her throat got louder and more garbled, giving Clint a bolt of satisfaction that curved his lips into a smirk against her skin. Dirty talk always, always worked for Darcy.

She didn’t scream this time, but she did grab onto his head with both hands and tug at his hair when she came. Her frantic humping turned into more of a shuddering, stuttered movement and then she went limp and quiet except for the heaving of her chest while she caught her breath.

Slowly, she released his hair from the death grip she had on it.

“Fuck,” she said in a lazy, dazed tone. 

Clint lifted his head to meet her eyes with a smug grin. “Ready for dinner?”

“Fuck!” Darcy’s eyes widened and she scrambled off of the couch. She stumbled a little in her haste and he caught her with a steady hand and a rapidly swelling ego. “I have to get the food out of the oven.”

“I got it,” he chuckled, pushing up to his feet and holding her hand for an extra moment just to make sure she wasn’t going to take out an end table or trip into a wall like a newborn giraffe. “You wanna go clean up before they get here?”

She narrowed her eyes and pointed her finger at him in what was probably supposed to be a menacing way, but she was still too flushed for it to look anything other than cute.

“This is all your fault.”

“I’ll take credit,” Clint assured her, pushing her pointer finger away to drop a kiss to her mouth. “Go on, then. We wouldn’t want our guests to notice we’ve been fooling around. What would Natasha think?”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed further and, fast enough to catch him off guard, she palmed his half-hard dick through his jeans. Startled, he grunted and pushed into her touch. 

“I think,” she drawled just as Natasha’s familiar voice sounded on the other side of the door, followed by a sharp knock, “that you’re about to find out.”

She disappeared into the bathroom with a parting wink, leaving Clint with his head spinning and his cock nowhere near deflated enough to answer the door without embarrassing himself in front of his notoriously observant best friend and Captain America. For fuck’s sake.

He could make it through dinner, though. Sure, he’d be daydreaming about her tits in his mouth quite literally the entire time, but he could hide his erection during the world’s weirdest double date if it meant proving to Darcy that Natasha liked her almost as much as he did. 

Almost.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudos if you've made it this far. Just know that if you leave a comment, I’ll be smiling all day.


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